A Question of Morality
by Phoenix0rb
Summary: Merlin's kind are slaughter by King Uther's tyranny. He yearns to do what he must to free magic, but his relationships along the way cause him to struggle with knowing what's right. Eventual slash. I'll probably end up changing the rating to M.
1. Preface

**A/N First fanfiction... I've written short stories and novels but this is new to me. Please review, I plan on taking this story pretty far so advice is always welcome. :)**

**[Disclaimer!] I obviously don't own the rights to Merlin. If I did, this would be the series, not a fanfic. Obviously.  
****By the way, does anyone really own the rights to Merlin? It's a legend... That makes it public domain, right? Ah whatever. Commence!**

* * *

Preface  
~*~*~*~

As a full, blue moon rose over the skies of Camelot, darkness enveloped the kingdom. A cloaked figure strode briskly and silently out into the night, with dark robes billowing behind. The rogue easily evaded the vigilance of the two knights guarding the outer gates, whose gazes fell stoic and unaware as the figure walked past them.

The shadowed form retreated from the walls of the castle, deep into the forests beyond. After an hour of travel, the forest opened to a glistening lake in a pool of blue moonlight, luminescent with the distinct palpable atmosphere of magic. The only sounds audible were that of the rippling water, lapping the edges of the oasis.

Standing erect in the middle of the lake was a woman in a royal blue robe, facing away from the visitor. Without turning, she spoke.

"I've been expecting you."

Only silence followed her declaration. The shrouded figure stood at the edge of the lake, mute and still. The woman grew impatient.

"Speak, boy." She commanded.

"High Priestess, I want to end the crusade. I need your help." The man responded.

The woman turned toward him, and stalked forward, her crystalline blue eyes locked on his hooded face. The mystic water beneath her feet froze with each step, forming a jagged bridge of solid ice behind her as she approached him.

"You must end King Uther to accomplish such a feat, you are aware?" She asked with insincere softness.

"Yes."

She stood before the boy and grasped his hood.

"No!" He spoke in protest.

"This hood will not hide you from me, assassin. I've been expecting you." She said ominously as she released his hood. "The druids have long prophesized of you. I need not look upon your face to know who you are,

...Emrys."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
~*~*~*~

"Up, up! Merlin, get up. I need you to run some errands for me today," Gaius called from behind the bedroom door. Merlin jumped from the spot he'd sat all night, his gaze finally breaking from the wall.

"Morning again?" He murmured to himself as he stood and stretched, his muscles protesting with fatigue.

It hadn't yet been a month since he arrived, and Merlin was already fed up with Camelot. He hated having to hide his gift; having to pretend to be nobody when had so much power. Since coming to the kingdom, there had already been three public executions. Each sentenced to their deaths for the practice of magic; for being themselves. And even more sickening, after every slaughter, Uther called for a grand celebration. The only death that should be celebrated is the retched king's, thought Merlin.

With no small amount of reluctance, Merlin dressed and joined Gaius in the common room. Gaius sat at his table and motioned for Merlin to join him. Sighing as he sat across from his guardian, Merlin asked what errands he had to attend to.

"Don't worry about that just yet," he replied. "Merlin, I haven't seen you smile once since you've been here. Is something the matter?"

Merlin looked down, "No. No, Gaius. I guess I just… miss Ealdor," he lied.

"Understandable," Gaius replied, unconvinced. "Well. It would do you good to get out and see the city more. I happen to be in need of some herbs, I need you to go fetch them for me." He wrote out a list on some parchment which he held out to Merlin with a smile. Merlin furrowed his brow, looking at Gaius in confusion. "Find the herbalist, he's right by the knights' training grounds, you can't miss it." Merlin stood transfixed. "Well, go on then!"

Rolling his eyes, Merlin grabbed the letter and walked out into the city. The morning sun shone brightly upon Camelot, and a light breeze kept the heat comfortable. The sky was a fair blue with only a few white puffs of cloud floating about. Townspeople mingled pleasantly; socializing and bartering at kiosks, exchanging smiles and hellos.

Merlin stood stone-faced to the scene. He felt sick. How could everyone act so happy under the rule of injustice and tyranny? How could the sky be so inaccurate in its depiction of atmosphere?

A friendly young woman with soft brown curly hair approached Merlin. She offered a sweet smile. "Hello, I haven't seen you around here before. I'm Guinevere, maid to the Lady Morgana."

"The Lady-who?" he responded, scratching his head.

"Wow, you really aren't from around here are you? What's your name?"

"Err… I'm Merlin," he said halfhearted, "and apparently I'm the court physician's servant. Was supposed to be his ward, but you know…" he found himself smiling.

Guinevere giggled, "Well I'd best not keep you from your duties then, Merlin. I'll see you around." She walked away with a smile, leaving behind a moderately confused Merlin.

"Right then…" he mumbled to himself. Well today isn't the worst, he thought, walking through the town of smiling faces.

* * *

Merlin approached the knights' training ground in a substantially better mood than before. The area was a flat circle of packed dirt. There were tents at the perimeter of the rink with racks of different weapons for the knights to practice with. Against the wall of the castle, half circle of bull's-eyes await the onslaught of arrows and projectiles. Pleasantry can be quite infectious, it seemed. He stopped at the focal point of an arch of targets, looking around for signs of the herbal shop. Behind him, a man chuckled arrogantly.

"You might want to scurry off, peasant," the man called.

Merlin, irked, spun around with a witty retort on the tip of his tongue but stumbled when he saw the knight addressing him. For some reason unknown to him, as he took in the sight of the tall, broad, feather haired blond before him, his mind blanked.

"Are you deaf? Or just plain stupid?" the knight jeered, "Get a move on!"

Merlin's odd, happy mood melted away instantly and was replaced with anger. "What's it to you where I stand? I'm just looking for the herbalist."

"You're standing in front of a target, peasant. Do you know what targets are for, ingrate? For this." The man threw a dagger toward Merlin; it skimmed his tunic scantly before plunging into the target directly behind him. Merlin's face darted to the knife imbedded in the target behind him, then to the knight, to which his brow incessantly creased.

"You really don't know who you're dealing with, prat," Merlin spat. The blond laughed heartily.

"Oh this is too great!" He laughed again and tossed Merlin one of his swords. "Why don't you show me then?"

Merlin pursed his lips with frustration before lunging at his challenger. His sword came sweeping down over the knight's head. However, the man calmly sidestepped, leaving Merlin and his sword rapidly advancing to the ground. Steel rang as his sword cleaved into the earth. The knight simply kicked the hilt out of Merlin's hands and brought his sword to the neck of his opponent.

"Oh come on, now. Show me who I'm dealing with," the knight taunted and stepped back, allowing Merlin to retrieve his sword for a second round.

This time, the blond was the first to strike, immediately slashing at Merlin in a quick flurry. Merlin somehow managed to parry each attack with a sweep of his sword, filling the tense air with piercing cries of clashing metal. But each advance forced him to retreat a few steps, until his back was against the impaled target. Turning into his slash against Merlin's sword, the knight's strengthened blow knocked the defender's weapon off. He prodded Merlin with his sword to indicate another victory.

"Again!" Merlin demanded, pulling the dagger out from the target behind him and wielding it in front of him. The knight chuckled.

"If you insist," was his reply. They both crouched in battle stance for several moments, waiting for the other to make the first move. Once again, it was the knight, who brought his sword down against Merlin, who held a block with his small dagger. The knight laughed again, pressing more power into his sword, making the hold more difficult for his opponent. In that moment, time slowed to a crawl, the stance between the two held slovenly in stasis. Merlin's face bore a fierce front of determination, and just then, his eyes sparked with light. The ocean blue of his irises shone to a supernatural gold, and his attacker's blade shifted, the point of contact no longer the fulcrum of balance. Merlin's dagger was now closer to the sword's tip, and time resumed its haste. The knight's sword slid right off of the dagger, and the man tumbled onto his chest, leaving Merlin to bend over him, dagger pressing into his back.

Merlin smirked victoriously over the man, knife still pressing into his back. Yet before he could fully enjoy the moment, he found himself restrained by two nearby guards.

"What is this? He attacked me!" Merlin snapped. The knight stood from the ground and wiped dirt from his armor.

"To the dungeons," he commanded. The guards nodded solemnly as they dragged a squirming Merlin through a castle corridor, just under the town. He was taken down a spiral staircase into a dark, damp hall with a few barred cells. The guards tossed Merlin to the floor and shut him in.

"Okay. That's fine! Go baby your stupid knights! Cowards!" Merlin called out to the guards, who left without response.

Great, Merlin thought, stuck in the dungeons. But then again, who ever spoke of Camelot as a just land?

Hours passed in the lonely cell, and Merlin soon found himself drifting asleep on the cold, hard floor.

* * *

_Emrys._

Merlin opened his eyes to the moonlit lake he had visited the week before. The High Priestess held his gaze with a cocked head and a devious smile. She took a few steps forward, and her voice rang clear in his mind, though her lips did not move.

_Emrys, I have summoned you here to discuss something very important. Tell me of your encounters._

Merlin looked into her ice blue eyes. _I was thrown into the dungeons for fighting a knight. Camelot values little justice, I was practically assaulted._

_Emrys, you have been imprisoned because that knight you fought was Arthur Pendragon, prince of Camelot. _She projected with amusement.

Merlin was dumbstruck. He had always imagined all Pendragons to look as menacing and cruel as they were inside. He knew that knight was a pain; he just hadn't realized he was a royal pain.

The woman studied his face, before interrupting his musings. _You must devise a plan to get closer to Prince Arthur, if you can grow amicable with the boy, you will be one step nearer to the royal family, and they will be one step closer to their deaths._ A maniac grin stretched across her face.

_But, how do I do something like that? Arthur and I are not exactly on friendly terms. In fact, we're quite hostile._ Merlin quipped through his thoughts.

_I am certain the opportunity will present itself. _She replied simply while turning her back to Merlin.

_Yes, Nimueh.  


* * *

_

Merlin awoke not an hour later. The dungeons were silent and cold and Merlin couldn't catch a wink of sleep. He sat and waited through yet another night, staring at the small window up into the street until he saw light filter through as the sun rose.

Footsteps sounded behind him. Someone was entering the dungeons. He heard the steps stop in front of his cell, but kept his back to the bars.

"For heaven's sake Merlin!"

"Gaius!" Merlin exclaimed.

"I send you into the town for one small errand and you managed to end up here. Luckily I was able to pull some strings and had you released."

Merlin stood from his spot and thanked Gaius with a smile.

"Now, I need not say that next time you are in the presence of royalty, you will doing anything but pick a fight?" he chided.

"Of course, Gaius, I've learned my lesson," Merlin responded with a plan formulating in his mind. "In fact, I should go find the prince to apologize!"

"There you go, Merlin. That is excellent. You would find him at the training grounds again this afternoon. I suggest you head directly over there now."

"Thanks," and with that, his cell was opened, and Merlin took off to the training grounds to execute his plans.

He found himself walking up to the clearing again, standing out of the way of the knights and targets this time. He scanned the area and sure enough, there was the prince, firing a crossbow at one of the targets from quite a distant. The arrow landed just on its mark, at the red center of the round bull's-eye.

"Your Highness," Merlin called as he approached. Arthur looked at him and lowered his crossbow.

"Well, well. They let you out early. Was one night in the dungeons enough for you?" he asked threateningly.

"Yes, Prince Arthur. I've come to offer my apologies."

"Of course you have, peasant. What's your name?"

"Merlin," he replied with a dark tone.

"Well then, Merlin. Let's hear it," Arthur demanded, smug.

"Well, sire. I apologize for defeating you in battle. It's quite clear that you're deficient, and as a prince, I should have allowed you victory," Merlin recited deviously. Arthur's jaw clenched. "Of course, if I had known you were royalty, I would've thrown the match for you." The prince was affronted. His eye twitched with violence.

"Merlin," he warned.

"Woops. There I go again, offending important people. Please forgive me, your Highness. I only meant that you're not as skillful as some others. It's nothing to be ashamed of, milord."

"Really?" Arthur asked, enraged, "Well then, perhaps a wager? We fight again. If you win, I will bow to you. If I win, I shall decide your fate."

"Oh no, sire, I wouldn't dare fight a knight again! I've learned my lesson. Wouldn't want to get arrested again… Ah I have an idea, let's see who can hit the bull's-eye more accurately from far away!" Merlin proclaimed with an odd expression. "Noblemen first," he said, raising his arm to the target.

Arthur glared at his challenger. He lifted his crossbow and stepped back several meters, leaving him quite an impressive distance from the target. He sucked in a breath and fired. The arrow whizzed through the air, marking the white ring, right outside of the red area on the circular board. He looked to Merlin with a smirk and handed him the weapon. Merlin held the crossbow up, cautious to have no one in his line of sight, and carelessly fired his arrow in the general direction of the targets. The arrow flew over to the targets, but failed to hit anywhere but the ground.

"Oops. I guess I was wrong. Well you're still a prat," Merlin offhanded fearlessly. Arthur's head went red, and looked as though it would blow right off.

"How dare you! Perhaps you do need more time in the dungeons, or would you prefer the stocks?" he growled.

"Eh. Either or, I suppose," said Merlin, "Dungeons, actually. Then I won't have to see your royal ass."

"Why you—"he came stomping at Merlin.

"Any punishment is fine, really. The only thing I'd dread is having to deal with you again" Merlin pushed. Arthur stopped in his tracks and thought, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"Well, you were quite brave there, Merlin. Maybe I should be rewarding you. Oh, I know! You can be my manservant. You'll have to muck out the stables and fetch my every whim and carry around those boards for some moving target action," he said sharply. Merlin feigned a look of distress.

"Um, your Highness? Why don't you just put me in the stocks? Yeah, that'll teach me, absolutely," Merlin offered.

"No, no. My stance is final. Why don't you get to those stables right now?" Arthur laughed, "Well? Get to it! Go, go! Now!"

Merlin stared at Arthur momentarily before leaving him behind with a huff, wandering off from the training grounds.

"Uh, Merlin?" Arthur called. Merlin stopped.

"Yes, sire?"

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To the stables, sire," Merlin said, sarcastically.

"Well the stables are that way." Arthur pointed behind him, berating his servant. Merlin fumbled.

"Of course… I was just… well alright then." he spattered, walking in the direction instructed.

* * *

* * *

**A/N: So I don't know how I feel about chapter lengths. What do you think? Longer? Shorter? I don't want to ramble but I also don't want to have small, lame updates :P Oh. And I absolutely hate how you can't manipulate spacing in this thing :/ Sorry for the awkward scene breaks.  
**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: RAWR I was aiming for over 4000 words but I didn't quite make it! Disappointment of the year! I'm sorry. Better than last chapter though, in terms of length! I was gonna have this up like Saturday but I spent a few hours dancing around alone to Born This Way by Gaga... Then I played some harp... Then I wrote a song. SO! Here we are! I'm gonna start writing every morning though so you can expect a new chapter at least every week, typically twice a week. That sound okay? Okay. Well... Enjoy.**

**P.S. So sorry for the multiple updates! I didn't save my last minute changes :S It won't happen again... 3**

* * *

Chapter 2  
~*~*~*~

"Stupid prince with his stupid horses and their stupid shi—urghhh," Merlin's stomach roiled with nausea. The stench of the stables was overwhelming, and that was just for the first few minutes. Merlin had been in the stables mucking out horse dung and sludge for the past hour. Who knew horses could produce this much of a mess?

Merlin took a peek around, and after seeing no one was around, he turned to the mess and intensified his gaze. His eyes turned to a honey gold glow and the hay and waste gathered into piles. All around, fecal matter hovered into the air, weaving between shocked horses, tossing into the near wheel barrel.

Just as Merlin's magic began waning from the room, someone came walking into the stables.

"Merlin, I was told the oddest thing," he halted as he witnessed the sorcery before him. "What in the name of—" he exclaimed, causing Merlin to whip around in surprise.

"Gaius!" He breathed a sigh of relief. If that had been the prince or a guard…

"What did I tell you about magic?" Gaius scolded, "What if it hadn't been me that caught you? You're going to get yourself killed!"

"I'm sorry, Gaius, but I can't just not use magic. It's who I am. I can't forget who I am just because of some wicked tyrant." Merlin exhaled.

"Merlin, your mother was a dear friend of mine. She asked me to take care of you. I can't let you go and get yourself burned at the stake. Magic is forbidden in Camelot. You mustn't take these chances, especially now that you will be working so closely with Prince Arthur, himself."

Merlin sighed, "Heard about that already?" he said, looking at the ground.

Gaius looked at him sympathetically. "Merlin, you're playing with fire in a wooden house. Promise me you will not use magic again." At that, Merlin grew agitated.

"I can't do that, Gaius! If it's between life and magic, I'd rather die! Without magic, I'm just a nobody. You can't possibly understand what that's like!"

Merlin glared at his guardian before storming furiously out of the stables, leaving behind an exasperated Gaius. He stomped on to the outer gates of the city, and to the trees beyond, gathering anger as he traversed the thick forest. After thirty minutes of treading in the same direction, Merlin stopped and closed his eyes. He listened and he felt.

He listened for the eerie hum of magic. He felt a slight tension in the air, and followed it for another hour.

When Merlin opened his eyes, he was once again at the ominous lake, and his rage dissipated into the thirsty atmosphere. He really enjoyed his visits here. The dense crackling of magic around him truly made him feel alive. It was as if the water, the earth, the trees, and the sky were a part of him, and he could sense every leaf, every rock, and any obtrusion in the consecrated area.

It was pitch dark, but he could feel his master in the same position she stood before.

"I've done as you've asked," he called out to her, "I've become the prince's manservant." Nimueh eyes widened.

"His manservant, you say? My, my, this is better than I had expected. Excellent work, my child. You now have easy access to the royal palace. Soon, the Pendragon dynasty will die at your hand," she chuckled darkly. Merlin hesitated.

"And then the killing will end?" he questioned, "The persecution?"

Nimueh's lips curled up at the corners. Her frosted eyes bore into him.

"Of course, warlock, that is what we all want," she smirked. Merlin looked pensively to the ground for a moment.

"So, what do I do now?" he asked, at last.

"First, you must study," she said, "I will teach you to harness your power. You will be trained in the ways of the Old Religion, so that you may slay the Pendragons with your magic." She approached him with a thick, black ancient book in her outstretched hands. "This is the Tome of Umbra, a spell book of tremendous knowledge and power." Merlin's eyes were lit with curiosity as he took it from her cold arms.

"This is incredible…" he mused aloud. "Where do I even start?" he asked her in wonder.

"The elements," she commanded, stepping backward. He opened the bindings and flipped to the appropriate section. The words were written in a language Merlin hadn't seen before, but immediately recognized. "The first incantation, Emrys." Merlin looked up at her questioningly. "Today, child," she barked. He placed the tome on a nearby rock before holding his palms toward Nimueh hesitantly. He swallowed and took inhaled deeply.

"_Exuro fluo_" he recited. Merlin felt a warmth in his hands, but nothing ensued.

"Not even a puff of smoke?" Nimueh scoffed, "Again!"

Merlin recoiled a bit at her tone before muttering the foreign words again. This time, the heat on his hands was accompanied by a lively flame climbing his palm and licking between his fingers. Merlin looked at his hand with shock and smiled triumphantly, relinquishing the fire.

"You do realize that was terrible, don't you?" She spat, "You are absolutely pathetic. The great Emrys can't even cook a boar with his miserable excuse for magic. Do it right this time."

"This is my first time trying!" Merlin yelled back, turning red, "What do you expect?"

"I expect you not to whine, and to cast a simple spell when I demand. What are you waiting for? Now!"

Merlin's glare alone could've burned through his master when he braced his arms once more. "_Exuro fluo!"_ he shouted. An immense surge of power coursed through his body and his eyes flashed bright red before sparking to the typical golden glow of his magic. A burning torrent of fire erupted from his palms, cascading toward Nimueh and flaring like a waterfall blasting against shoals. A constant stream of flames bombarded her; the priestess could not be seen behind the stretching blaze. When Merlin finally released his arms, he was panting with exhaustion. He could sense that Nimueh had not moved, and briefly wondered how she survived. As Merlin calmed from his rage, he realized something was different. The air had chilled significantly; the edges of the lake had a thin layer of ice and frost, but the area where he had been aiming was thick with steam. Merlin shivered and looked up at Nimueh, who was encased in a faint blue field which faded as she spoke.

"Excellent work, Emrys. Fire is an element of rage. It is catalyzed by your anger but not produced. Do you know where the flames came from?"

Merlin shrugged, "My magic?"

"Do you notice anything different?" she asked, ignoring his guess.

"It's gotten pretty cold. It's kind of odd, really. I mean, I just produced a beam of fire and instead of being hot, it's gotten cooler."

"You did not 'produce' anything, warlock. Were you not listening?" she pressed irately, "The Old Religion is bound by certain rules. Magic is a function of the world, which is a function of balance. We do not create or remove with magic. We transfer or shift. The fire came from the heat in your surroundings; that is why your side of the lake has frosted over, and where you struck me steams. To burn a tree, you must cool the air, so to speak. To chill a pond, you must heat the air. To save a life, you must take a life. This is why you've come to Camelot. This is the lesson you must learn. Do not hesitate when the opportunity arises to end the Pendragons. Their lives are the balance to the death of our kind. You have the power to reverse the scales, their deaths for our lives. Do you understand?"

Merlin drank in her words and saw their reason, yet something still felt off about it. He knew she was right, he knew what he must do, but it would never sit well with him.

"I do," he responded, "Thank you, priestess. I should return now, I must see to the prince."

"Very well, Emrys. Do see that you look over that tome, and come back for training on the morrow."

* * *

Merlin approached the towering stone turrets of the royal palace and informed the guards of his business in the castle. He received directions to the prince's quarters and went on his way through the massive halls. In his entire life, Merlin had never seen such a grandiose building. Despite having several stories, the rooms and halls had high ceilings, adorned with intricate artwork depicting beautiful women and bountiful fruits. Although the stone castle looked cold and intimidating from outside, the inside was warm and comfortable with the orange glow of torchlight. After standing around in awe, Merlin realized that his tardiness would be detrimental to his plans, so he found the winding stairs.

Merlin rushed up the steps, not noticing when a familiar face turned the corner, and stumbled right into her.

"Guinevere!" he breathed, "Sorry, are you alright?"

"Oh, yes I'm quite alright," she said, smiling, "And please, call me Gwen."

"Well alright then, Gwen. What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you that question. I'm the Lady Morgana's maid, remember?"

"Ah yes, that's right. Well I've actually wound up as the prince's servant," he sassed, "Lost a wager with him."

"A wager?" she asked, "What, a fight? Well thank goodness you came out alive!"

"No, not a fight," he said defensively, "Although we did have a fight, but I didn't lose that one."

"Really?" she inquired with an odd tone, "It's just that you don't really look like one of these muscular types of fellows."

"Gee, thanks," Merlin said, affronted.

"Oh no, I'm sure you're stronger than you look," she offered, "It's just, Arthur's one of these rough tough save-the-world type of men and, well, you don't look like that." Merlin looked at her with a lifted eyebrow, entertained at the irony of her statements. He looked around conspicuously before leaning in to her ear.

"Can I tell you something?" Gwen nodded. "I'm undercover," he whispered with amusement. She looked at him quizzically and laughed as an afterthought.

"Well, you shouldn't leave Arthur waiting, he can get a bit cranky, after all," she said, leaning back. "I shall see you later then," she said, continuing her path down the steps.

Merlin watched her step down, smiling to himself, before remembering he was in a hurry, and running up the stairs, two at a time.

He arrived in front of the prince's quarters, out of breath, and knocked.

"Enter," he heard from the room. Merlin opened the door to the most beautiful chambers he had ever seen. He stood, gaping at the ornate artwork along the walls and ceiling. He turned his view the beautiful furniture; dressers, stained mahogany and adorned with delicate carvings, a table that looked as though it was never barren of fruits and snacks, and a bed that looked more comfortable than clouds, with a model prince atop it, looking right at him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my new friend, Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed with a leer, "What exactly are you doing here?"

"You know why I'm here," Merlin snapped, "Sire," he added sweetly.

"Well maybe I need a bit of a refresher," he teased, "Tell me, what is your business in the royal palace, peasant?" Merlin gawked at the very forward attempt of humiliation.

"I am your manservant, sire," he forced himself to say. Merlin found himself blushing furiously. He didn't know why, it wasn't as though he was really that embarrassed by the situation. But he certainly didn't want the prince to see, so he shot his gaze to the floor, hoping Arthur had missed the transgression. But alas, he did not. Mistaking Merlin's reaction for shame, he smirked.

"That you are," he jibed, endlessly amused. "And how did you enjoy the stables, servant?" Merlin glowered at his arrogance. If only looks could kill…

"Is there anything that you need, sire?" he asked, growing tired of Arthur's games.

"Ah yes, in fact, I need you to scrub the floors. The future king can't be forced to live under such low conditions, after all."

"Milord?"

"What?"

"Your floors are spotless."

"Are they now?" Arthur looked to the floor, paused a moment, and spat on the pristine tile. "Oh look! A spot." Merlin stared in disbelief. Arthur raised his eyebrows, giving his servant an expectant look. Merlin sighed, fetching a wash bucket and mop from outside and returned to the room to tend to his duties. "Oh, and Merlin? Make sure you scrub the entire floor, not just that spot."

Merlin proceeded to mob up the floor, starting from Arthur's spit, working his way to each corner of the enormous room. "Prat. 'Should just kill you now," he muttered quietly to himself whilst finishing up his job.

"Merlin, I heard that," Arthur said. Merlin froze. Did he just get caught? He may have to kill him now. Merlin considered the vicinity of the guards outside Arthur's quarters and whether or not he'd be able to escape if they heard. Then his mind drifted back to his mission. How would he kill the king after eliminating his way into the palace? Security would probably be doubled after such an attack. Merlin's thoughts were interrupted. "You may want to watch your tongue, lest it gets cut out," Arthur warned, "You're lucky I don't take you seriously, Merlin." He laughed at the prospect of the likes of Merlin making an attempt on his life, "As if you could pose any sort of threat to me."

Merlin exhaled with a combination of relief and annoyance. It was a constant suffocation to feel so powerful and important, yet be perceived as such an insignificant creature. Merlin had never hated a man more in his life than he hated Arthur Pendragon. Being the son of a raging tyrant should not constitute such pride and nobility. The prince was really a frail insect next to Merlin, yet he acts as though he was a towering goliath, and Merlin was a mere garden gnome.

Merlin sank into a spiraling digression into primitive fury. The longer he slaved away for Arthur, the angrier he became until—

"Oh, Merlin? You've been tracking in dirt from your shoes this whole time. Take them off and start over," Arthur commanded.

Merlin's eyes snapped wide and flashed blood red for an instant, and he felt a distinct heat of magic surging through his body to his hands. He gripped harder onto the mop and seethed.

"Hey, do you smell smoke?" Arthur sniffed the air. Merlin's eyes snapped to his face, then to his hands. He noticed a little plume of smoke drifting up from under his finger and dropped the mop in shock. "What happened? What did you do?" Arthur snapped. He got up from the bed. Merlin looked down to the mop and saw that his handprints were burned into the staff. He quickly picked it up and replaced his hands on the singes just as Arthur walked over and looked at him suspiciously.

"N-nothing, sire," Merlin stammered, "It just got…" he panicked as Arthur placed his hand on the mop between his with an inquisitive look. Merlin felt an odd spark when Arthur's skin touched his. His heart, which had been racing with adrenaline, skipped an extra beat and he took in a small, sharp breath.

"Cold," the prince finished for him.

"Yes, must be a draft," Merlin improvised.

"Indeed. Well Merlin, I have a council meeting to attend. See that you finish this up before I get back. I better not see you again tonight." Merlin sighed his consent and Arthur strolled out of his chambers, leaving Merlin with his mop.

When he was alone, Merlin's anger returned to him. He perused Arthur's elegant room, scoffing at how utterly spoiled the brat was. Browsing through the prince's armoire, he saw rack after rack of handsome formalwear, formal-looking casual wear, and even fancy sleepwear. Merlin rolled his eyes and moved to Arthur's night stand and opened the drawer. He rifled through a couple rings and a few keys and stopped as his finger passed over a certain key. He felt the familiar sensation of an echo in his mind and heard an unfamiliar voice.

_Merlin_

It felt just like when Nimueh contacted him in the dungeons, yet the voice was difficult to decipher. It was deeper and rough, almost inhuman. Yet just as soon as he heard it, it was gone. Merlin looked around in confusion, and found himself looking back at the key. He had to know what it was for. It was different from the others; it was older, cast iron, and large. Something about it seemed familiar to him but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He decided to leave it for now, and finished up cleaning the floor magically as he left Arthur's chambers.

* * *

Back in Gaius' quarters, Merlin was laying on his bed, thumbing through the pages of the Tome of Umbra. In addition to various elemental manipulations, there were also incantations for stimulating illusions, inflicting disease, and telepathic magic. Beyond mere incantations, the book held the secrets to a myriad of arcane rituals, from raising the dead to capturing life.

Merlin held a certain fascination to the book's knowledge, but couldn't help but notice that it was all for the purpose of harming others. Was that all magic was for? Was he given his gift just to bring retribution to the Pendragons? He had always felt that magic was a part of him, a quintessential quality that made him special. He never imagined that the sole purpose of his existence was to be a weapon.

He recalled the moment in Arthur's room where he had nearly lost control, how he had nearly gotten caught, how willing he was to burn the prince to the ground. He knew that was something he'd have to do eventually, but for some reason, he thought it wasn't something he should relish.

Merlin's contemplations were bouncing around in his mind, and were beginning to form a painful headache. He dismissed his thoughts and placed Nimueh's book in the niche under a loose floorboard beside his bed. His questions starting buzzing up again until he heard a knock on his door.

"Merlin?" it was Gaius, he sounded gentler than usual, "Can I come in?"

Merlin sighed before giving his consent. Gaius walked over to Merlin and sat on his bed, holding something out of view in his hands. He place in on his lap and revealed it was an old blue book with gold bindings and designs.

"Merlin, about our conversation this morning—"

"I don't want to talk about that, Gaius." He scooted away. Gaius gave an exasperated huff.

"Would you just listen to me!" he said, "I just wanted to apologize. You were only wrong about one thing: I do understand what it's like."

"You did magic?" Merlin gasped, "Does Uther know?"

"Actually he does, but I was once his close friend and when he banned magic, I stopped practicing it and he let it go."

"So you just gave up on a part of you just to bend to his rule?" Merlin asked in an acidic tone.

"Magic was never a part of me, Merlin. I wasn't born with the gift as you were; it was just something I studied." Merlin opened his mouth to interject but said nothing when Gaius raised his hand, "However, I do realize that as it a part of you and whatever your destiny is, you are special for a purpose, and that purpose is not to deny your birthright." Merlin smiled at his words, but before he could thank him, Gaius raised his hand to stop him again. "That's not all. I want to give you this," he said, handing the blue and gold tome to his ward, "it's called the Book of Magus, and I believe you have more use for it than I." Merlin looked ran his hand over the ornate cover.

"Thank you, Gaius," he said emotionally, "Really—I, I don't know how to express how much this means to me."

"I understand. You're welcome." He stood and walked over to the door and paused. "Oh, and Merlin? If I catch you using magic to do Arthur's errands again, Uther will be the least of your problems. Be safe." And with that, he exited, leaving Merlin to his readings.

Merlin fetched the Tome of Umbra from under his floor and sat it next to the Book of Magus. He stared between them for the longest time, thinking about his guardian and his master. He had been impacted in such different ways from the both of them, and he wondered what Gaius' book would have in store for him.

He put the dark book back under his floor and opened his gift from Gaius. Flipping through the pages, he saw useful spells that were neither for the purpose of harming nor helping anyone, unless specifically intended. There were small incantations to unlock doors and specific uses of telekinesis; and powerful magic for slowing time and conjuration, including a ritual to duplicate small items.

_Merlin_

That beckoning, inhuman voice sounded in his mind again. Merlin jolted and looked around his room before he realized what was happening. He looked back at the book to the duplication ritual. He recalled the last time he'd heard the voice and was hit with realization. He picked up a small parchment and copied down the ingredients needed to complete the ritual and put away the book.

Merlin lied back down on his bed, his mind buzzing with everything that had happened today. With busy thoughts, he eventually drifted into a restless sleep.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: So I'm sorry I definitely didn't end up writing as fast I thought I would. This chapter decided on its own to go in a totally different direction than planned and it took me a bit to catch up :P  
Thanks for the awesome reviews. Feed me more! They make me want to write :P

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* * *

Chapter 3  
~*~*~*~

Merlin was back at the lake, only something was different: it was silent. Ahead of him stood Nimueh, and atop her wet, braided hair sat a bejeweled golden crown. She held a second crown in her left hand, and beckoned Merlin toward her with the other. Her mouth lipped the words, 'together we can rule—" but no sound came out.

The world flashed black and flipped upside-down for an instant before reverting to the lake. Now, Merlin was against a tree, scraped and burned, bleeding and panting. Nimueh towered over him with black in her eyes. She lifted her palm so that it was pressed against Merlin's forehead. The whole of her eyes were consumed in the blackness and she threw her head back, letting out a silent cry. The darkness infected Merlin's visage, turning his flesh white as he began to bleed from the un-pierced skin of his fingers, up to the unscathed skin of his arms, and spreading through his body until blood seeped from every pore.

The world flashed black and flipped upside-down for an instant before reverting to the lake. Merlin was not there, this time. Nimueh laughed maniacally. Gaius approached her, and shouted some unheard words. Nimueh calmly stepped out of the lake and tossed her head, propelling Gaius against a tree trunk. Gaius stood and waved his arm, stirring a powerful wind that buffeted the sorceress. She dispelled it immediately and tossed a dagger from her sleeve, plunging it into Gaius with incredible force. Merlin ran into view and hurried to Gaius' side. He looked at the priestess and his eyes turned to a brilliant gold. The entire lake was devoured by a cloud of golden dust until all that was left was blackness.

From the dark, a large pair of red eyes opened, and with them, the first sound was heard. A ferocious roar shook the scene which snapped back to Merlin's small room at Gaius' place.

_Merlin_

His eyes popped open instantly.

* * *

Merlin prodded the lumpy oatmeal Gaius had served him with a distracted look. His mind returned to the contents of his dream.

"Oi! What are you brooding over?" Gaius asked, "Did Arthur mistreat you?"

"What?" Merlin instantly responded.

"You're brooding over something, what is it?" he pressed.

"I'm not brooding. Why do you think I'm brooding?"

"Maybe because you're viciously trying to crush clumps in your porridge?"

Merlin dropped his spoon into the bowl. He really needed to work on his transparency.

"I had a bad dream," Merlin admitted. Gaius continued to look at Merlin, expecting more. When half a minute passed in silence, Gaius accepted his minimal response.

"Would you like me to prepare you a sleeping draught? The Lady Morgana has them administered every night. I could make a new batch by tonight."

"I'm fine, Gaius. Really. I just—did you know many sorceresses before the Purge?" Merlin inquired. Gaius cocked an eyebrow.

"Sorceresses? Merlin, I'm sure any sorceresses I knew are far too old for you. There's nothing wrong with non-magical women, you know," Gaius said with amusement. Merlin blushed profusely.

"'S not like that!" he said defensively, "I was just wondering, is all. I haven't met anyone with magic. What was it like back then?"

"Oh, Merlin, it was wonderful," Gaius recalled, "Freedom to study all kinds of magic. We had healers do more good than a physician ever could." He chuckled, "And you'd meet the brightest people who could do incredible things with their magic."

"Who was the most powerful sorceress you knew?" Merlin looked at the old man expectantly.

"Ah. Well she was a good friend of mine, actually. We had studied together for a short time, but she was trained in the ways of the Old Religion since she was very young. Ni—" he stopped, catching himself. Merlin's eyes widened.

"Who?" Merlin whispered. Gaius cleared his throat.

"It is none the matter now, Merlin. I have things to attend to. Are you sure you don't need a sleeping draught?"

"No," he replied disappointed. Gaius walked over to his shelf and picked up a corked vial with a thick yellow liquid and handed it to Merlin.

"Well then take it to Lady Morgana. I'm afraid I don't have the time," Gaius said, stepping out the door, "Matters to attend to and such. Oh, and you better hurry, I don't think you'd want to keep Arthur waiting."

Merlin was left alone in the chambers. Gaius and Nimueh were friends, he thought to himself, why hadn't she mentioned anything? Before his mind could follow that particular endless train of thought, he realized he was alone in Gaius' office, so he pulled a scribbled parchment from his pocket and browsed the shelves of herbs he kept. He searched jar through jar, pocketing certain herbs until he had every item on his list. He took them to the hidden compartment under his floor board, and left for the castle with Morgana's potion in hand.

* * *

Merlin walked up the last few steps to the royal quarters and approached one of the guards for directions to chambers of the king's ward. After being pointed in the right direction, he came up to her door and walked in without thinking to knock.

The Lady Morgana was seated at a mirror; brushing her hair when he barged in. She gasped and looked at him with a shock for not a moment before quickly standing up and grabbing a nearby sword, pointing it right under Merlin's chin before he could blink.

"Who are you?" she demanded fiercely, "What business have you, intruder?"

Merlin's eyes bulged at the greeting. She was almost as bad as Arthur; and feigning frailty was really testing Merlin's patience.

"Oh- no you've got this all wrong," he said with his chin lifted away from the blade, "I'm the court physician's apprentice, I brought your sleeping draught." As soon as he said it, her features softened and she smiled, lowering her sword moments later.

"Oh, hello…" she paused for a name.

"Merlin," he said.

"Hello, Merlin. My apologies, but you mustn't walk into a lady's chambers like that," she said with a sugary sweetness. Merlin was unnerved by her ability to switch from hostile to friendly so convincingly. He warily handed her the draught as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Milady. Well, I should be going," he said, back-stepping to the door.

"Wait! You're Arthur's manservant, aren't you?" she asked with interest. Merlin sighed.

"Unfortunately," he muttered.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Yes, yes I am," he revised. Morgana beckoned him forth and he stood beside her chair. She had a scheming smile as she opened her mouth, not finding words for a moment.

"What do you think of him?" she asked with gleaming curiosity in her eyes. Merlin couldn't help but give her look of derision for the gossip she initiated. "What? Can't you indulge a lady?" she pressed playfully. Merlin gave a slight sigh.

"My master is a noble and fit future king," he said.

"You're an awful liar, Merlin," she giggled, "you can be honest."

"Well," he started, "Arthur can be a bit arrogant. Pig headed, really. And he's spoiled rotten. He thinks just because his name is Pendragon that he can go about pushing everyone around. He thinks he has power but he is nothing except unappreciative, erotic, conceited—"

"Erotic?" Morgana interrupted. Merlin coughed.

"Err… Did I say erotic? I meant neurotic."

"Merlin, that doesn't make sense. Sure, Arthur's a bit of a prat but I think he's a bit too stubborn to be neurotic, don't you think?" she said, smiling.

"R-right. Stubborn. And pig headed. Have I mentioned cocky?" he continued.

"Yes, yes. I see your point. But still, how about his manly jaw line and sexy blond hair?" she interjected dreamily while running the brush through her hair.

"Well I suppose, if you're into that… But he's a man and I'm a man and so there isn't… he's not a girl" he said hesitantly.

"No I don't suppose he is," she said bemused before continuing, "And have you seen his body?" she giggled and blushed. Merlin found his face flushing as well.

"Um, no," Merlin said, getting uncomfortable with the conversation.

"It's like a Greek god's" she stated factually. Merlin backed himself to the door awkwardly again.

"Well, milady—"

"Please, call me Morgana"

"Right, Morgana. I should be going. Um, right. Bye."

Merlin darted out of the room and put his back against the door on the other side, his eyes closed, trying to shake the incredible embarrassment he felt from participating in such a conversation. After a few seconds, he deduced that his reaction was somewhat ridiculous and that he really shouldn't keep the prince waiting. Just as he had come to this realization, Gwen approached him with a curious look.

"Um, what are you doing?" she asked, looking at Merlin suspiciously.

"Oh, err nothing. I was just—this isn't… I wasn't spying on her or anything," Merlin said honestly, but uncomfortably. Gwen was completely unconvinced and looked a bit peeved.

"Uh huh," she looked at him accusing.

"We were just talking about Arthur," he explained.

"And that left you swooning?"

"I wasn't swooning! It was just… waiting for you!" he said, smiling. "Hello, Gwen. It's lovely to see you. You took longer than I expected though, so now I have to go."

"Okay…" she drawled, "I should see to Morgana now, anyway. Bye, Merlin." She target one last quizzical look in his direction before knocking on the door, and leaving Merlin in the hall.

Merlin huffed irritably. Morgana's flattery for Arthur had an effect on him. He guessed it was just bothersome that the prat was seen in such an attractive light when it was clear that the prince was rotten inside. The fact that he has nice hair and a strong jaw and whatever amazing god-like body made Merlin dislike the man even more.

Unable to even entertain the idea of working for Arthur at the moment, Merlin decided to visit Nimueh for his training first.

* * *

When Merlin came upon the mystic lake, the images from his dream came flooding into his mind and he was struck with an inexplicable feeling of foreboding. Yet as soon as the visions came, they left without a trace. Suddenly nervous, Merlin took a slight step toward the sorceress in the lake. She cocked her head at him curiously and bore her eerie blue eyes into his. She smiled wickedly.

"Is that fear I sense, Emrys?" She took a predator's step forward. In her intense gaze, Merlin felt like defenseless prey in a lion's line of sight. He inadvertently closed his throat in a subconscious attempt to swallow his irrational feeling. "I hope you studied."

The hairs on Merlin's neck stood anxiously while sweat dripped down his skin. It had suddenly become uncomfortably warm as Nimueh murmured inaudible words under her breath. In quick realization, Merlin dove behind a tree just as his master's arms shot up, and a bolt of cold, white lightning was expelled from her hands, striking Merlin's previous position with deadly precision. The targeted area was instantly impressed in a well of jagged ice, which stretched up the tree Merlin hid behind. Without warning, the frozen trunk shattered, bringing the tree top subsequently falling toward Merlin. He stepped out of the way just in time for it to crash hard against the ground.

The warlock looked at the sorceress in shock. Her only response was a bombardment of frigid shards, which sped with precision to Merlin, halting just before his active, golden eyes. They fell to the ground harmlessly and Nimueh scoffed.

"Balance, Emrys," she called out to him. Merlin's mind was frantic as he tried to compute her meaning. His skin was drenched and he began to pant in the growing heat when he instinctively held his arms out, eyes shining brilliantly. As Nimueh's arms rose again, wisps of churning ice wind rushed to the apprentice, whose arms dragged ahead of him, ripping fresh flames right out of the air's heat. The gust of living frost came tumbling into the warlock's nascent wall of fire, dissipating both elements in an opaque flourish of hazed steam.

"Balance," he returned. Nimueh continued to summon blow after blow of arctic magic, and Merlin's reaction to it became increasingly quick. He used the excess of heat resulted from her incantations as soon as he felt it, nearly precisely as each attack was formed. Hot red met winter blue repeatedly between the two mages. As his reflexes reached perfection, Nimueh thrust her palm toward him, and just as she repelled the heat from her hand, Merlin reacted, effectively neutralizing her spell. She smiled at this and lowered her aggressive stance. Merlin warily followed suit, beginning to feel enervated by the over exhaustion, of his reservoir of power.

"Knowledge of the mechanics of the Old Religion can turn the tides in any situation, magical or not. Your swiftness in apprehending practice is quite impressive, warlock; but it is the theory that holds global applications. It could even potentially assist you in your pitiful attempts of secrecy. I can only pray that Arthur finds you less transparent than I." She chuckled. "You have to give something up to withhold something convincingly. Pretending not to hide anything is what is expected of you. What are you hiding, Emrys?"

_Merlin_

Merlin was in shock. His mind warned him not to mention the voice or the key, urgently. He thought about what she said, about giving up something else to hide his secret. He knew she would see through any deceptive attempt on his part, but he couldn't let her find out about his plan. He knew the call was a warning; he had to think on his feet.

"What would I have to hide?" It was a start, but he would have to do better than that.

"Awful at theory, as I suspected. What have I taught you?" she chided.

"Gaius gave me a spell book," he blurted out. She smirked at him.

"That's better, Emrys. Try not to take so long next time," she advised, "Oh, and Emrys? You cannot hide anything from me. Enjoy your secrecy, for it is only a matter of time."

Merlin was surprised. She let him off knowing he was being untruthful. As if responding to his thoughts, she added, "I am a High Priestess of the Old Religion, there is little you can possibly do to cause me distress."

There was a distinct threat in her tone, and though there were few people Merlin felt powerless against, she was one of them. It was this that held Merlin's tongue. He had so many questions; questions of Gaius, questions of the dark book she bestowed him, questions of their plans, questions about magic. He had questions that none other could answer, but all of which he wouldn't dare approach her with. He bit back his sudden jolt of loneliness and quietly turned to leave.

"Emrys," she addressed, "time is drawing thin; the time for action is near."

Merlin stopped and sighed before continuing his exit.

* * *

The sun over Camelot was retreating from the sky, and the city was cast in the shadows of dusk. Merlin walked into the courtyard before the castle, still shaking his disturbing session with Nimueh. The streets oddly empty in the upper city, each of his steps echoed unchallenged through the vast cobblestone expanse.

Unsettled by the silence, Merlin hastened his step and entered the castle.

_Merlin_

There it was again, he thought. He whipped his head to the direction of the call, which was a familiar locked door. The dungeons? Merlin recalled his arrest from the other day and contemplated the implications of this new clue. Perhaps there was fellow sorcerer, calling out for his help. No, Merlin thought, if the voice was human, it couldn't be friendly. He was beginning to doubt his convictions. Lying to Nimueh only to release a dangerous prisoner seemed like a risky endeavor, to say the least, yet something within beckoned him; it felt similar to the pull of kinship, and yet not.

_Merlin_

"Oh, hold your horses would you? I'll be there in a bit," he called back to the voice.

"No, I will not 'hold my horses', Merlin!" It was the sound of a furious prince. Merlin jumped, not anticipating a response. "Do you have any idea what a lousy servant you are? I do not pay you to check in once a day and fiddle away the rest of your time!"

"You don't pay me at all," Merlin snidely commented. "Sire," he added.

"Why you—ugh!" Arthur grabbed his servant by the collar and dragged him through the castle and up to his chambers, muttering angrily along the way. When they got to his room, Arthur swung open the door and tossed Merlin inside. He stumbled to the ground and looked up at Arthur in fit.

"Did you abuse all of your servants? No wonder you were in such dire need for one," Merlin spat.

"Well I would hardly consider you my servant, seeing as you never show up for work," Arthur enunciated the last five words belligerently. Merlin scuffled to his feet infuriated, and despite his height disadvantage, attempted to tower over the prince. The result had the brunette standing puffed-chest at Arthur's nose height, looking him square in the eye.

"As if you, of all people, need my services!" he fumed, "You've the whole kingdom at your whim you arrogant, gluttonous prat!"

"Why you insolent little—"

"I'm not finished!" Merlin yelped. To Merlin's surprise, Arthur actually went silent. A few moments passed and Arthur just raised his eyebrow to his servant, with the slightest curve of a tight smile playing at his lips. After a couple more seconds, Arthur crossed his arms impatiently while Merlin looked around awkwardly. "Well, and you're mean," he said halfheartedly.

Arthur waited only a second before cracking up uncontrollably. Somewhere between his hearty heaves of laughter, he breathed out Merlin's name. Merlin smiled a bit at the inappropriate reaction he received before reverting to a scowl. Arthur ceased his amusement and sighed.

"Just show up every morning with my breakfast and await my instructions for the rest of the day until you get the routine down; unless, of course, you would prefer to spend your time in the stocks? Right, didn't think so. Oh, and Merlin? I suggest you change. No servant of mine will be seen in that tonight."

Merlin blinked in confusion. He hadn't planned on being seen tonight anyway, what should it matter what he wears? A trip to the dungeons to unlock whatever magical maniac calls for him hardly seemed like a dressy occasion.

"But sire, the streets are empty, who must I dress up for?" he asked in a bit of a stupor. Arthur laughed again, sending sparks of annoyance and something else through Merlin.

"Of course they aren't. Lady Helen of Mora has come to sing for my father. Everyone who matters will be there, with the addition of you, of course." Merlin glowered. "Well hurry up, Merlin. Someone needs to keep my glass full."

* * *

The Grand Hall was packed with nobility. Large tables were arranged that occupied the length of great room, each featuring magnificent centerpieces of the finest flowers and decorative plants in all of Camelot, every pedal and leaf brilliantly adding lively color to the atmosphere. The hall itself was quite the splendor, with ceilings stretching gloriously above, and brick floors, the warm shade of walnut. Merlin gaped at the scene, still unused to the grandeur quality of the wealthy lifestyle.

Arthur strode over to the end of the hall, and took his seat next to his father at the head table. Merlin tailed behind, enthralled by the enveloping fragrance of the succulent feast he was to serve, but not eat. Merlin spotted Gwen in the corner and went to join her.

"Good evening, Gwen," he said. Guinevere's eyes narrowed.

"Merlin," she said, handing him a pitcher of wine. He thanked her and took to Arthur's side, filling his goblet with drink. Upon returning, Merlin received scrutiny from the handmaiden. He looked sheepish under her curious stare and after a few moments, she spoke up.

"It seems that the Lady Morgana is quite taken with Prince Arthur," she tested, studying his face. Recalling his first conversation with the king's ward, Merlin blushed.

"Yeah, it's a bit obvious, really." Merlin looked between the subjects, feeling the slightest twinge of something—anger? This obtuse reaction did not go unnoticed to Gwen. She shifted her weight onto one leg, peering around the enormous table to the royal members mentioned.

"Well Arthur does look quite handsome this evening, does he not?" she pried, trying to squeeze more reactions out of the secretive warlock. Merlin huffed, slightly disgruntled.

"You fancy him too, don't you?" he asked, somewhat accusatorily.

"No, no. Not at all," she stammered.

"What? I thought you were all for that rough-tough save-the-world types?" Merlin asked, warming up.

"Well no, I'm into much more ordinary men, like you," she slipped out. Merlin cocked an eyebrow and her.

"Trust me, Gwen, I'm far from ordinary," he said with a smirk.

"Oh no, I didn't mean you. I don't like you. I mean, I like you, just not in that sort of way. I just meant I like more ordinary men like you," she said, emphasizing the last 'like' in an attempt to quell the uncomfortable atmosphere she had generated.

They stood together in a tense silence which was accentuated by the liveliness of high classmen enjoying their meals. The blatant contrast was painful. Guinevere made another attempt at her investigation.

"Lady Morgana is quite fetching tonight, isn't she?" Her sneaky tone didn't quite make her words convincing. Merlin disinterestedly hummed his agreement; a response Gwen had not anticipated. She lost patience with the game. "Just admit you fancy her!"

"What?" Merlin looked at his friend with genuine confusion. "I don't. I barely know her. Is this about before? I really wasn't spying. It wasn't what it looked like!"

"I don't mean to pry, but you just get jealous when I mention her and Arthur, I just assumed—"

"I'm not jealous!"

"Of course not, my mistake," she said, her opinions clearly unchanged by the course of the conversation. Before Merlin could get in another word, the tall doors to the hall swung open, revealing a regal looking woman standing proudly at the entrance. The boisterous dining hall suddenly fell in silent respect as Lady Helen stepped into the room.

Without any prompting, the honored guest began reciting a beautiful yet ominous song. Slow and enveloping, her rich voice filled the room with its mellifluous melody. She slowly advanced as she sang, walking toward the royalty. Something was wrong. Merlin felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle of a familiar thickness to the air. An imperceptible darkness fell over the hall; and with each word of Helen's voice, the feeling of dread heightened in the young warlock.

Merlin noticed the entire audience had fallen asleep, and spider webs slowly weaved themselves around the slumbering. Lady Helen's countenance intensified as she entered a dramatic crescendo in her song. Merlin's eyes instinctively turned gold as he began inadvertently dispelling her enchantment. Lady Helen continued her song, and as she reached a climactic point in the music, Uther and Arthur began to stir.

"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son!" the vocalist cried as her youth melted from her features instantaneously, leaving behind the wrinkles and posture of a crone. It was then that Merlin anticipated the great chill in the room, before it could be felt. Acting without thought, Merlin tossed the pitcher of wine between the woman and Arthur. The witch's hand suddenly shot a ball of flames at the prince, whose path intersected that of the projected pitcher. The orb of heat collided with the metal dispenser and the wine inside, combusting in the center of the space between the supposed 'Lady Helen' and Arthur. Arthur looked at Merlin in grateful shock, while Merlin looked at the explosion site in shock of his own actions. While the two were frozen in the weight of the attack, and Merlin's thwarting of it, guards attending the banquet seized the wailing witch, dragging her to her feet before the king.

Everything else passed in a blur around Merlin. What had he done? He just saved the life of a man he was to kill, yet he couldn't help but feel relieved. He stared wide-eyed into nothing in particular, contemplating his failure, before turning his head to meet the gaze of the man he protected. And when light crystal blue eyes met his stormy gray, something sparked, and he felt right in his actions for that single moment.


End file.
